


Dragon lady out take

by jillianbaade



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillianbaade/pseuds/jillianbaade
Summary: All the extra bits of T’lara’s life on Pern that don’t really fit in with the main story
Kudos: 1





	1. Impression

**Author's Note:**

> There will be several more chapters, probably 4 or 5. This starts with her Search as a Queen Candidate, and ends with her Impression of Omath

Out Take 1

Telara had just finished supervising the weaning of some runner foals. Four fillies, cream and chestnut in colour were already bought by a large Hold in Ruatha. 

Two colts were to be gelded, and the last, a magnificent black colt, was going to Fort Hold as a birthday present for her father. 

The pregnant woman went slowly back indoors, by the Red Star, she was tired. A servant approached with the fresh fruit which was all Telara could stomach eating at the moment, and a drink of fresh milk. Her tummy rebelled violently at just the thought of Klah, so she was drinking milk or juice on the advice of the Hold’s healer for the vitamins.

Though it was midday, the Holder of Stony Heights had yet to put in an appearance. Having taken to drinking more and more heavily (and not Bendan or even Tillek wine, but some sorry brew from Crom) Jase often didn’t show himself until dinner. More and more of his duties were falling on Telara, who was struggling with deep sickness and exhaustion. 

As the lady finished her meal, q she thanked her steward, drudges and stock handlers for their excellent work before handing out the afternoon’s work orders.

The Hold folk were just beginning their assigned tasks when a lad of ten turns, newly apprenticed to the Hold’s animal healer rushed in. ‘Search!’he announced in excitement nearly tripping over his own feet. 

‘Bendan Dragons, and your father rides brown Canth with F’nor, my lady’ the boy continued. 

‘Groghe is here! Oh my!’ The flustered headwoman shot off to the kitchen wing, to order refreshments suitable to dragonriders and a Lord Holder. 

The familiar rumble of her father’s voice greeted Telara as she managed to walk uncomfortably out into the courtyard to greet her guests. Naturally, Groghe greeted his daughter with a kiss, and concern for her gravid state. 

Four riders, F’nor, rider of brown Canth, said to be the greatest living search dragon stood with three blue riders, all drinking cold tubes of sweet fruit juice, as the headwoman said there would be cured meats, pickles, cheese, fresh bread and white Bendan wine ready soon. The wine came from the Holder’s personal cache, but the Headwoman knew she would get a tongue lashing for not appropriately serving a Lord Holder and four Riders before Jase would complain of having his private stock pillaged. 

‘Soon, good woman, soon,’ remarked F’nor. ‘Now my mother is Headwoman of Bendan Weyr, and she knows Search comes first. F’nor smiled in his quiet charming way. 

‘These fine fellows,’ he indicated the other riders, ‘with me will help your people to set up the youngsters for Inspection. Your kitchen hands will then be free to prepare further refreshments and to entertain His Lordship.’

‘I will entertain my Lord Father personally,’ Telara explained. 

‘Some wine would be nice, daughter, and perhaps meat rolls to share with Merga.’

The hold’s drudges needed no further instruction, and soon served Groghe, who sat watching, amused as all the hold’s youngsters were sent to wash faces and hands and comb unruly hair. 

‘Where is your husband?’ Groghe asked once Merga was perched on his shoulder, full of meat roll and good, clear well water.

‘Upstairs yet.’

‘Drinking too much, is he?’

A tiny nod was the answer.

‘Whoring, too,’ growled Groghe. While he had cast his seed wide in order to ensure many good strong lads or lasses to train up to take over Fort Hold, he’d never disrespected his wife, or left any children, or indeed their mothers to fend for themselves. 

‘It’s alright Dad,’ Telara knew her father was speaking as a concerned parent, not a Lord Holder. ‘The Hold folk look after me.’

Groghe reached out and turned the right side of his daughter’s face to him, revealing the black eye she’d been trying to hide. 

Growling like a bronze dragon Groghe grit out, ‘even while you carry his child. Enough is enough, walk with me, my child.’

‘F’nor,’ Groghe roared like a dragon too.

The brown rider turned from where he and Canth had been inspecting a group of teenaged girls. ‘We need to invoke the Queen’s Council,’ and Groghe showed the Riders Telara’s bruises, causing all to exclaim in anger. 

‘Canth has an idea.’ F’nor spoke low. All the other Hold youngsters had been inspected, boys twelve to twenty one, and girls fourteen to twenty five as possible gold riders. The dragon riders were ready for their refreshments and the dragons an hour’s sleep on the Fireheights.

‘When we are ready to leave, Canth will announce an unknown source of power..Queen Rider power. This isn’t a lie, he’s been on about it all day and has just agreed it is Telara. With your permission, as Bendan searches outside our usual lands, l will take Telara in Search, she will Impress or she won’t in which case l believe you can legally take her home to Fort.’

Groghe considered, and nodded, ‘make your announcement when ready, brown rider.’

F’nor nodded in agreement as the Headwoman and her staff brought out skins of Bendan Wine, choice cuts of preserved meat, cheese, pickles and freshly baked bread. Everyone dived in, T’lara taking a small well watered glass ofwine and some cheese.

The riders ate gratefully, complimenting the Stony Heights Hold folk on their hospitality.

Then came time to leave. That was when Jase decided to appear, staggering down the steps, as Canth declared he’d Searched a Queen Candidate.

Jase bellowed like an enraged herd beast as Telara was placed upon Canth with her father. ‘Take it up with Weyrleader F’lar, my brother,’ F’nor suggested.

Jase howled like a sun struck wherry as the Riders lifted off, taking six young teenagers for Ramoth’s clutch with them, and Canth carrying not just F’nor but Groghe and Telara.

Winging into Bendan Weyr, the dragons called loudly. Weyr folk ran out and Telara was carefully assisted down from Canth, who had crouched down to make it easier.

Weyrwoman Lessa arrived, looking flustered, but soon took control. ‘Lord Groghe, what brings you to Bendan Weyr?’

‘Escorting my youngest daughter, who was Searched today.’

‘But Lady Telara is married!’

Silently Groghe turned his gaze onto Telara’s black eye. ‘I would invoke the action of the Queen’s Council.’

‘That and Search definitely ends the marriage,’ stated a brown rider. ‘I am V’nor, Weyr Singer. Although, Lessa, it wouldn’t hurt to the Queen’s Council know.’

‘In the meantime, l will get you settled into a room. I don’t think it will be suitable to bunk you with a group of girls, Lessa, there’s that unoccupied Queen’s quarters?’ An older woman had stepped forward, bearing the insignia of a Headwoman. 

Lessa thought for a moment, ‘Yes, Manora, you’re right. Lord Groghe, the Hatching is expected in two days. Would you care to stay here, or go back to Fort?’

Telara didn’t hear her father’s response as Manora lead her gently away, to first see the Weyr’s healer, who prescribed rest, and a lotion for the black eye.

‘Is my father staying,’ Telara asked several hours later, after a nap and a bath. Manora had found some clean clothes suitable fo Telara’s state of advanced pregnancy, and was encouraging her to come down for dinner. 

‘A nice light broth, my lady is for dinner, with hot rolls followed by spiced wherry and baked roots, with a light fruity jelly for sweets.’

‘I will be down, and certainly have some broth and jelly though l don’t know if l can eat wherry at the moment.’

‘I was like that too, in my last weeks with F’nor..ah, you didn’t know l was his mother. Well, l am and well versed with his and Canth’s tricks, though l throughly approve of this one!’

Telara smiled, and walked with Manora, who thoughtfully paced herself to suit the gravid waddle of the younger woman. As they entered the dining hall, dragon riders stood up to honour their hard working head woman and the noble lady walking to the main table where Weyrwoman Lessa and Weyrleader F’lar waited with his brother F’nor and four other young women, the other Queen candidates. V’nor as Weyr Singer was also present, with Telara’s father, and was gently arguing points of law with Groghe.

‘Yes, my lord, l was apprenticed to the Harper Hall prior to Impressing my Anath, and actually l had made the rank of Journeyman. Weyr Singer is, of course, the equivalent of being a master Harper, l took my Mastery examinations four years ago, and specialised in Impression law.’

Groghe nodded, and drank a mouthful of the cool sparkling Bendan wine he’d been served.

‘Impression of a dragon has always over ridden other considerations and occupations. Even Search can, but put Search with mistreatment, and there is no question of Lady Telara obeying the Weyr, and you, her father. Lady Telara, is, in my opinion, free to stand as a Candidate and so l swear on Anath’s shell!’

‘Good, my daughter will stand, and Weyrwoman,’ Groghe inclined his head to Lessa, ‘l will stay until the Hatching too, my sons can run Fort while l am here. Good practice for them!’

Telara, seated next to a tall, beautiful blonde girl of sixteen stared in admiration. The girl introduced herself as Petra, from a vintners Hold, where they made some of the magnificent Bendan wines.

‘You are so beautiful!’ Telara gaped, ‘you’ll Impress the Queen for sure.’ Petra shook her head, golden hair flying. ‘No, my lady, you are a Lord Holders daughter, you will Impress Gold!’

In that instant, a friendship was born, one that would last fourty two years.

Three days later.

The humming of Dragons announced the imminent Hatching. Petra and Telara helped each other with the donning of their white Candidates robes, then, hand in hand, they walked on to the hot Hatching Grounds, where dragon eggs awaited the prospective riders. Petra and Telara formed up part of the circle around the rocking golden egg. 

Telara felt breathless for a moment, but Petra took her hand and, together they stepped forward to the Queen egg, which cracked open and the young queen battled her way to her feet. 

Without hesitation the queen locked eyes with Petra, ‘l am Leth!’ the hatchling cried. 

Her eyes shining with the beauty of New Impression, Petra turned to Telara. ‘Don’t despair, your girl is coming,’ and literally seconds later, Telara felt a push to the back of her knees that almost knocked her over.

‘I am Omath,’ announced a tall green hatchling. ‘Is there anything to eat?’


	2. Race rider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omath’s favourite memory of her beloved rider

Horse riding 

Telara, had been, as the saying was, born with one foot in the stirrup. Her earliest memories were of riding Fort Hold’s runner beasts, and by the time she was twelve was handling and breaking in youngsters with her older brothers. 

By thirteen she was riding the racing runners with success, and was quite in demand as a jockey. Lord Groghe often contracted her out as a race rider, but Telara liked it best when she wore Fort’s colours. 

Probably her affinity with runner beasts is why she was married to Jase, Holder of Hanging Rock Runnerhold, the largest such Hold under Fort’s jurisdiction. Groghe thought it would suit Telara to bred Runners, and he was right, it was just a pity that Holder Jase was an idiot, not that Groghe knew that until later.

It had hurt Telara to leave behind Dart behind when she’d gone to Hanging Rock Hold but she knew the beautiful colt would be safe at Fort Hold where she could see him on her visits to her home Hold, and her visits to Fort had been many and long and each and every time she spent many hours with Dart, training him to gallop, to race. They competed several times in small races very successfully. Jase didn’t like it, but couldn’t argue with the Lord of Fort Hold.

So when Telara Impressed and became T’lara, she was committed to Fort Hold for one last race once her child was born. Two months after Impressing Omath, T’lara gave birth to her only child, her son Ricor. 

On the pretext of a visit to Fort to show off her baby to her family, four months later T’lara finished up her final obligation to her natal Hold by agreeing to ride Dart once more before he retired and she became a fighting rider. This agreement of course was with the consent of Weyrleader F’lar and Weyrwoman Lessa. 

So T’lara left Ricor in his doting grandmother’s care and began riding Dart. Fort Hold runner handlers had kept him fit and gentle with regular exercise, but only for T’lara would he really gallop all out. 

It took a few days but T’lara soon got her and Dart back into a routine, and after that a few practices with the starting barrier and racing with other runners before the head trainer of Ford declared them ready to race. 

It was a beautiful spring day, a Thread free rest day, that started the great runner Gather. 

T’lara was nervous, she’d not race ridden for over a year now, but she settled as she pulled on her brown shirt, decorated with a yellow lattice, Fort’s colours bright on the racing silks. 

Grabbing her racing helmet and goggles, which are very like the gear worn by dragon riders, she headed for the mounting area, where a young handler was walking Dart, who seemed calm and relaxed. 

Her father,Lord Groghe, legged her up as he’d always done, with a wish and hope for a good ride.

Heading for the starting barrier she allowed Dart to move into his lope, and finally a hand gallop, stretching his long legs before slowing down and circling before the starting barrier. 

Fourteen prime runner beasts loaded into the start to race that day, the long race of 3 clicks. Out along the roads and pathways around Fort Hold, through the closest farms and back onto the course proper for the gallop to the finish. 

The runners went easily into the barrier, Dart going in second. The jockey on T’lara’s left gave her a friendly grin, ‘Lady green rider. Let’s hope you ride a dragon as well as a runner!.but don’t worry, l’ll make sure you get a fair race here.’

She responded with a small smile, Athal was an older jockey, and one of the few who neither thought her foolish to race ride as a woman, or deferred to her as Groghe’s daughter. Actually, since Impressing Omath, T’lara thought the Search dragons were missing prime Candidates for blue and green dragons by not Searching the younger jockeys. 

The starter took his place, ‘ready sir, ready,’ or ‘not yet sir,’ as the brown runner on T’lara’s right, a young beast, reared. T’lara’s voice was firm, ‘ready sir, ready,’ as Dart’s ears flicked forwards. 

Twenty seconds later the starter’s hand dropped and Dart surged forward. The race was on!

Taking a firm hold of Dart, T’lara stood in her stirrups, her slight weight, such as it was, holding him back in fifth place. Time and enough to ride hard.

Out in the roads around the farms they went, over two brush jumps, and down through the Fort river ford. Dimly, T’lara was aware of Fort holders cheering her and Dart onwards, and the bugle of dragons from the fireheights.

Onwards through the increasingly dusty track they ran, and T’lara blessed her damp face mask that caught the dust, and the canny handler who’d wet Dart’s muzzle. 

Over more jumps, and down a slope steep enough for the runners to slide on their rumps and a straight, slightly sloping run back to Fort. T’lara let Dart go a bit, and they moved up to third place. 

Having set the pace, the first and second placed runners were exhausted yet T’lara held Dart behind them, waiting for them to hit the sand track that lead directly to the winning post. 

Suddenly sand was beneath Dart’s hooves. They were back on the race track proper, and, as Dart rounded a corner, T’lara could see the finish post and hear the cheering crowds. 

Clicking to Dart, she encouraged him forward, past the slowing leaders and on up the straight like the dart he was named for.

Several other runners galloped behind, having also made their run as Dart did. Risking a look under her arm at the following runners, T’lara urged Dart on with voice and heel. 

Thundering down the straight, T’lara could hear the beat of hooves behind her, getting closer, and Omath’s voice, ‘faster, the beast you ride must go faster!’ and T’lara urged Dart onwards again. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black muzzle and asked Dart to go even faster, and the stallion responded, going into an all out sprint. 

Black and cream, the two runners raced like lightning down the last stretch of track, Dart just managing to stay in front enough that his cream nose passed the finish first. 

Slowing and turning, T’lara rode Dart back to the dismounting area to be weighed, carrying the saddle and bridle with her. Correct weight was called as Lord Groghe pushed through the crowd to congratulate his daughter. 

Taking her hand he raised it high in celebration, ‘to T’lara best jockey on Pern, and now a dragon rider!’

‘To Lady T’lara,’ roared back the crowd. 

Omath sighed to herself, her eyes whirling blue with contentment. The race was one of her favourite memories after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we are, another out take, we will find out more about dragon riding in the next one. This race was a steeplechase of course.


	3. First Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T’lara and Omath fly Threadfall as a fighting pair. There should be two more chapters of T’lara’s life before ended up in Middle Earth.

First Fall

‘At Dawn over Nerat, live Thread will Fall.’

Although T’lara had gone to bed early, she hadn’t slept well. First, picking up on his mother’s nerves, toddler Ricor had been hard to put down. T’lara had eventually given up, and gone to cuddle up with Omath, Ricor and Frisk with her. 

At three am T’lara got her wake up call, a sleepy weyrbrat knocking at her door. She thanked the half asleep youngster who moved clumsily on to the next door and T’lara heard her friend Petra answer the child, ‘then come on T’lara, l’ll take Ricor, and you grab Frisk.’

Both young women dressed ready for Thread, went out onto their Weyr ledges and together mounted their dragons, green and gold, to fly down to the Weyr Bowl. 

Manora briskly took charge of Ricor and Frisk, feeding the fire lizard, and taking Ricor to the nursery area, where some of the Lower Cavern women were on babysitting duties.

Feeling a bit sick, T’lara left Ricor and went to her Wing’s table, but not before she and Petra had hugged, wishing each other well as each was flying as a full Rider for the first time that day. 

Waiting for their Wingleaders to emerge from the Weyrleader’s quarters after the tactical meeting, both young women drank Klah and tried to eat the warm fresh bread rolls, and only succeeding because they had been trained to avoid waste and excess. Nerves were really getting the better of them by the time the Wingleaders emerged, each going to their own wing’s table. 

Petra followed Lessa to the Queen’s table, and several riders, on restricted duties, also joined that table. 

Wingleader B’irto, Rider of bronze Cabenth, strode to the table assigned to Cyan Wing, and got the attention of his Riders, several of T’lara and Omath’s Weyrling class amongst them. 

‘Today, many of you fly Fall for the first time, by Faranath’s shell l hope it will not be your last time.’ 

Then his piercing grey eyes fell on T’lara. ‘What have we here? I saw you training with the other Weyrlings but assumed you would fly smokeless with Lessa’s Wing. What woman dares to ride a fighting dragon!’

‘Omath’s Rider, sir,’ T’lara answered. 

‘A waste of a good dragon,’ he all but hissed. B’rant! Ride with this…lords daughter and see she doesn’t get anyone killed!’

T’lara had sat silent in shock at B’irto’s harsh words. Yes, of course she knew some of her clutch mates were resentful of her, but she’d never encountered such hate from a fellow rider. 

B’rant looked in concern at the young and beautiful rider, a lovely dark haired girl. ‘Come on green rider, we need to feed Firestone to our dragons.’ T’lara followed the red haired rider closely. He was a few years older than her, and looked friendly.

A few minutes later on the Fireheights, and T’lara fed Firestone to Omath, listening carefully to when the green said her second stomach was full enough.

Then T’lara mounted her dragon. Like the other dragons, Omath’s tail whipped, she licked the air and her eyes were bright red. Next to her Frisk was ready to go too, he taken tiny shards of Firestone and was ready to flame, or run messages as needed. 

Around the Weyr Rim the fighting wings were ready to fly, restless, waiting for the Weyrleader’s signal to get airborne. Finally F’lar gave the traditional signal to fly, and each wing rose as one, and, on their Wingleader’s signal went between in fighting formation.

The sun was just beginning to peep over the horizon as the entire fighting contingent of Bendan Weyr emerged from between in Wing formation, hovering, waiting, as the dragons vaned their great wings, wings of jewelled colour in the dawn sky. 

T’lara looked down at the golden flash of the Queen’s Wing below and had Omath send Leth and Petra the traditional good wish of ‘fly well,’ which Leth sent back a second later. 

Farther below, Omath could see the ground crews assembling, a motley crew of teenagers and farm workmen carrying flamethrowers. Scary as it was to be facing Thread as a fighting rider for the first time, T’lara wasn’t as frightened as she was the first time she ground crewed as a thirteen year old, her back aching with the weight of the flamethrower she carried. She remembered looking up at Fort’s fighting Wings, far overhead, never dreaming she would be in the air one day, riding a fighting dragon, waiting for Thread.

To her right, B’rant hovered on brown Tulth, and a cheerful thumbs up sign from him made her feel more positive, even as the dour blue rider on her left had sapped her confidence. 

Then from the high Wings, from F’lar himself came the warning of First Thread, which his Azure Wing met first, as was Tradition. 

Far above, T’lara saw the tiny bursts of flame from Azure and Aqua Wings, then from Cyan’s Wingleader, B’irto came the signal to fall on Thread. Suddenly, T’lara was seeing through Omath’s eyes, and they were flying straight at a partly burned clump from an upper level. With a burst of flame, Omath destroyed it. 

Now to wheel and turn, spin and twist as Omath instinctively flamed Thread. At times, for all her experience riding runners, and a greater ability than most to move with her mount, there were occasions T’lara knew for sure without her fighting straps she would’ve parted company with Omath and fallen to her death, as the dragon flew upside down, spiraled and even seemed to stand on her tail to flame!

Whirling, diving, flaming, feeding Omath more Firestone. It seemed but instants before she and several other green and blue pairs were ordered back to Bendan Weyr for a rest after two hours of fighting. 

T’lara slid down Omath’s shoulder as the green stood by the Weyr lake drinking deeply. Then it was up to the lower caverns for a drink of broth, and some Klah for herself before a brief look in on a sleeping Ricor. Carefully, T’lara touched her son’s cheek, the child didn’t wake, so then it was back into Fall. 

The hour’s rest had flown by, and it was back into the air and between to Nerat. The Mountains were in view, a rugged, rocky, wasteland even Thread could not eat, use, or colonise. The Mountains were where Thread would end, Fall would over in quite a short time.

Then suddenly, Thread, blown by the high Mountain winds which changed its pattern, dangerously. Blown into treacherous sheets, Thread became especially deadly. At the front of the Wing, bronze Cabenth, unable to move about like a smaller dragon was soon quickly in danger. 

Without hesitation, T’lara urged Omath forward. A tiny piece of her worried about Ricor, but T’lara knew her parents would take him back to Fort Hold and care for him as their own if she perished. 

Omath breathed out hard enough to make her head swim, and a gout of fire, nearly big as a brown’s, shot from her mouth, little Frisk doing his part too as they flamed the maze of Thread about to fall on Cabenth and B’irto. Screaming, both dragons went between, Cabenth wounded, unable to fly with his left wing.

Straining herself terribly, Omath supported Cabenth until her sister Leth arrived, a breath later, the gold, being nearly twice the size of Omath, slipped in under Cabenth, to help him land. 

Exhausted, Omath all but fell to the ground, as Leth landed Cabenth. Leth nuzzled Omath, and the green straightened up, drawing strength from her clutch sister. It was then that T’lara realised her left leg and Omath’s neck were lightly Thread scored. 

Tall strong Petra helped her friend down from Omath’s neck, and Leth supported the green dragon as both T’lara and her dragon were helped by their friends to the healing area. 

Leth and Petra then disappeared to attend the Queen’s Wing debriefing. T’lara waited by Omath’s side. Both had been given the first aid treatment of numbweed, but still had to be cleared by the healers to go back to their Weyr. 

As T’lara sat by Omath, she saw two riders coming her way. One was B’irto, being helped by a blue rider whose close resemblance to B’irto meant the pair were probably brothers. 

T’lara’s strange sense of humour was nearly her undoing again, as she struggled not to laugh at the bandaged Bronze Rider, who looked far from his usual neat, rather pompous self. The green rider battled her desire to at least giggle a bit as B’irto stopped in front of her, and seemed to be struggling for words.

Finally, her urge to laugh controlled, T’lara asked, ‘Wingleader, how can l help you?’

B’irto looked uncomfortable, but eventually spoke, ‘l owe you an apology, green rider. Your actions today proved you are a more than competent fighting rider, and worthy to fly in Cyan Wing.’

By now, other riders had gathered, including the Weyrleader. F’lar himself then raised a toast of hastily poured Bendan White, ‘to Lady T’lara, Green Rider!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T’lara certainly had a rough first fall, but gained her Wingleader’s respect. Eventually, they become friends, but not as close as her friendship with B’rant.


	4. Red Star Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is T’lara own story of how the Weyrs cooperated to end Thread forever. The 9th pass still had to be endured, but that would be the last one.

Red Star Rises

AIVAS: artificial intelligence voice address system. This was left behind at the original site of human colonisation of Pern, with the directive to discover a way to destroy Thread. In the 9th pass, it was rediscovered, and gave the people of that time the benefits of it’s banks of knowledge, medicine, engineering, and music being just some, along with the truth of the origins of people and dragons. Eventually, AIVAS finds a way to knock the Red Star out of orbit, so that the end of the 9th pass would be the end of Thread forever. The artificial intelligence section of AIVAS ceases (seen by the Pernese as death) with the implementation of the AIVAS directive, but the data banks continued to give information. 

‘But Mom, l could help!’Pleaded now 13 year old Ricor, back from his apprenticeship at the Harper Hall for a visit with his mother, and for him to meet AIVAS. 

‘You know how we’ve had to study computers as part of our Scribe’s training!’

‘Alright, l’ll ask Lessa,’ and the teenager grinned happily.

And that is how he came to be on his mother’s dragon, seated behind her as they winged into Landing. They’d flown straight from Southern Hold as Landing changed quickly as more old buildings were discovered and dug up weekly. Visuals just changed too fast for going between. 

Omath landed, and let her riders down. Unharnessed, she joined a group of dragons and fire lizards that were helping some people dig up more buildings, while T’lara and Ricor as a dragon rider and a Harper’s apprentice, were shown directly to AIVAS, who T’lara had met before. 

‘Green Rider T’lara, it is good to see you again, and timely for l have a question for you, but before that, who is the lad with you?’

‘AIVAS, this is my son, Ricor. He has been staying with my father at Fort Hold, and he’s also a third year Harper’s apprentice.’

‘How very fortunate. I could use the help of someone used to handling delicate skins to place them on my reading surface here,’ and a flat table like surface lit up. 

‘While Ricor places the record hides on my reading surface, one at a time, thank you, Ricor, perhaps, Green Rider, you could answer some questions?’

‘I will be happy to help,’ T’lara replied as Ricor began to place the record hides on the lit surface for AIVAS one at a time, as asked.

‘Green dragons are the smallest and most agile, l believe?’ Questioned AIVAS.

‘That’s mostly true, although my Omath is big for a green, nearly as big as a small brown, though still far more agile.’

‘How much can a dragon lift and carry?’

‘That depends, but generally as much as the dragon thinks it can, or roughly its own body weight.’

‘We will have to weigh some dragons then,’ suggested AIVAS. 

T’lara nodded. ‘Omath offers, though she is a large green.’

‘What is the usual size for a green dragon?’

‘About 20 feet in length. Of course, Ramoth, Omath’s Mother, is the largest ever dragon at 45 feet. Omath at 28 feet is huge for a green. We’ve always thought she must’ve inherited her large size from her mother, Ramoth.’

‘What is the usual size for the other colours,’ AIVAS enquired.

‘Gold, or Queen dragons, about 40 feet. Bronzes, the largest males, 35 feet. Browns, the medium sized males, 30 feet, Blues, the smallest males, nearly as speedy and agile as greens, 25 feet, and as already mentioned, greens, the other female dragons, about 20 feet. Then there’s the white dragon, Ruth, he’s about 15 feet.’

‘Do all dragons have the ability to know where and when they are that Ruth does?’

‘Where, yes, mostly. When? Well Ruth does have a special talent there.’

‘I see,’ remarked AIVAS, going on to a more general discussion of dragons as Ricor finished placing the last of the faded record skins on to the AIVAS lit plate. 

AIVAS thanked T’lara and Ricor, and their time with the intelligent machine was over. Going back out of the AIVAS building, T’lara was hailed by the Lord of Ruatha, Jaxom, Rider of white Ruth.

Receiving permission, Ricor took off to see what a group of young lads were doing, and T’lara joined Jaxom, who was talking to other Riders, oddly mostly blue and green Riders, and the brown Riders present all had smaller beasts. 

‘But how can we do that!’ Mirrim, the first female green rider since ancient times spoke.

‘There will be a lot of us. The golds and bronzes will help us to lift the engines from the ships to the surface of the Red Star. Then we smaller dragons will go down into the chosen rifts to deposit the actual engines, before popping back to the Bahrain, and the larger dragons will go to the Yokohama.

Now, have you all done your spacesuit training?’ Jaxom finished.

About half had. T’lara was one who hadn’t. Most of the riders would stay indefinitely and complete or start their training in weightlessness and spacesuit usage. Ricor was asked by AIVAS to stay, as apparently the machine liked the way he handled the record skins so he too, was staying indefinitely, and using this time as part of his Harper’s apprenticeship. 

The next day T’lara began spacesuit training. It was more exacting then she’d thought. Walking in the heavy suit and stiff boots was awkward, and tiring. The helmet too, entirely covering the wearers head and face was oddly confining, and like many of the other riders T’lara had trouble with the idea of needing to turn her entire body not just her head to look about, and the helmet really restricted her vision as well. T’lara was glad to get it off, but didn’t panic like some other riders, mostly older ones, did.’

Of course, she was breathless and leaning against Omath after struggling a bit with the breathing apparatus. The air in it was odd too, strangely affecting her though Jaxom had said she would get used to that in time. Luckily, the air tanks worked much the same as a flamethrower tank, though these tanks only held air. 

Exhausted though she was, T’lara, like the rest of the green and blue riders, was determined to use the one chance the lesser colours had to shine and be heroes. Stopping Threadfall forever would surely classify as that.

So, she and Omath, now transferred from Bendan Weyr to Landing, struggled on with the extra training, and even flew a couple of light, Southern, Threadfalls. 

They moved onto training in weightlessness on the Bahrain, and that left both dragon and rider exhausted, in some ways it was harder than ordinary flight and Threadfall training. It did have advantages with teaching the dragons new ways to use their bodies that came in handy during a particularly tricky Threadfall, where gusting wind blew Thread every which way. The new methods certainly saved many lives and prevented some bad scorings. 

Finally, months later. 

Jaxom was leading the group of dragons selected to drop the first engine. At the time, T’lara didn’t realise Jaxom and Ruth were actually leading both groups of riders placing engines; Ruth’s ability to know when he was being indispensable. 

Nor did she understand the depths of time they had passed through, back to the First Long Interval for many years, probably for the best.

Still, it had been hard, but interesting work. Omath’s parents, Ramoth and Mnenmenth, had helped carry the huge engine to the Red Star, along with other Golds (Leth of course was one) and Bronzes. 

From there, the smaller dragons, green, blue and the odd smaller brown, lifted the engine down deep, deep into the chasm in the earth of the Red Star. Between passes, there was, of course, no live Thread as there had been been when F’nor and Canth had travelled there during the current pass. That pair had wished to visit the Red Star again, and were with the second team.

It had been terrifying, taking that engine deep, down well, basically underground, placing the engine then going between back to the Bahrain. Once there, T’lara, shaking from suppressed emotion had handed her gear off to another rider, and had sunk to the floor in exhaustion. 

‘Typical weak female’ scoffed a blue rider she didn’t know.

‘Leave her be,’ snarled B’rant, ‘can’t you see her Green is changing colour?’

Oh great, Omath was going to rise soon, no doubt because of stress and the changes in her usual routine. ‘Come on, green sister,’ it was Petra’s gentle voice . ‘B’rant, please help me get T’lara aboard Leth. Then we can take her and Omath between back to Southern Weyr.’

B’rant had simply obeyed a weyrwoman that day, hadn’t he? Or had both Petra and he taken care of care from friendship? Or, possibly, love? Oh, T’lara was aware she and Petra loved each other like sisters, teasing each other, ‘my golden sister,’ or ‘my green sister.’ But B’rant.. had he loved her? Like a Weyrmate?

T’lara didn’t know, she’d never known for sure, all she knew was, thrown out of her cycle by the stresses of riding through time, and the training to take the engine to the Red Star, Omath had risen to mate unexpectedly. 

That had been one flight to remember. Not because Tulth had failed to catch Omath, but because B’rant had punched out T’bor for being too possessive of T’lara, as T’bor had thought being a Weyrleader all others should stand aside. No, it was remarkable because in the resulting scuffle T’lara had suffered fractured ribs and a badly broken arm. 

Oddly, it was Vurth, blue dragon, ridden by M’tal who had flown Omath that day, the same rider who’d picked on her for being a weak female. 

Even more strange, M’tal had come to apologise to her and Omath the next day because Vurth had insisted, and the blue rider had gently inquired into T’lara’s state of health.

‘You didn’t hurt me, M’tal,’ she’d reassured him, ‘it was a mating flight thing. The injuries l have were from before Vurth caught Omath. You have nothing to apologise for.’

The blue rider then explained his comments about a weak female were out of line, ‘l didn’t know you were the Green who saved her Wingleader years ago.’

T’lara nodded, ‘l didn’t know you were the blue Weyrling who tried so hard to help Canth find Wirenth between.’

M’tal smiled. ‘Is there anything l can help you with until your arm heals, T’lara?’

She grinned back. ‘We need a party to celebrate getting those engines to the Red Star, and luckily we are Thread free next rest day which is also the big Ford Hold Gather. I can twist my Dad’s arm a bit to let we Dragonriders have a proper party there. You can help me organise it,’ she asked. 

‘So, it’s true, you are Lord Groghe’s daughter!’

‘Yep! So l can get all sorts of great party stuff at Fort Hold!’ T’lara laughed at M’tal’s stunned expression. 

He began to laugh as well, and that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T’lara still doesn’t think herself strong, or brave. I think she’s wrong.


End file.
